Destin [ON HOLD]

T E N

Taehyung's POV.

One, two, three, four, fight, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

My head is bowed as I watched my feet which are screaming in protest. It is half past one in the morning and I am still cooped up in the dance room trying to perfect my moves for when the members who would arrive in a couple of hours.

But I simply can't do it.

I am tried. Too tried.

My eyes are struggling to stay open. My muscles are aching. My mouth is dry. My feet are screeching in agony.

I want to sleep. And never wake up. Ever.

But I can't.

I know I can't.

Because I would only continue to let down the only people I could call family. Let down the people whom I trusted and loved with all my heart.

My steps are sluggish, moves increasingly slow. The music around me seems to be much faster than usual and my vision is beginning to become blurry.

One, two, three, four, fight, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Why couldn't I do it right? I've done it before. Countless times. Yet why, now, could I not master the simple move?

Maybe because you're tired as fuck, you dumbshit.

I ignore V, closing my eyes as I breathed out through my nose, trying to recollect my thoughts. But it is  simply impossible.

My thoughts are scattered.

All of them jeer at me. Taunt me.

Trying to distract me.

But I can't pay attention to any of that. I really couldn't.

Because the tips of my vision where dulling into a deadly black. A black that spreads over the white. The white of the room.

Black swept over the mirrors. Over the seats. Over the walls.

Until everything was gone. Until everything was black.

Just black.

________________________________________________

"The fuck? Is he dead?"

"Dunno, how cares anyway?"

"The fuck happened to him?"

"Apparently he died."

"Oh, okay."

"Let's wake him up!"

"But he's dead."

"Shut the fuck up. Hurry up and wake the bitch up."

"Watch you're language, you fucking horse."

"Fuck off turtle."

"The fuck did you call me?"

"Shut the hell up both of you!"

"Hurry and wake him up! We have fucking practice!"

"But he's dead!"

"Can you please shut the fuck up Jimin?"

"Hey! I'm your hyung!"

"I don't fucking care."

I groaned, feeling pain all over my body as I pulled myself. The talking stops and everyone's eyes snap towards me. My side is throbbing from having slept on it the entire time and my feet are purple and blue. My head is pounding and my face is still caked in blood from Namjoon's punch.